


Permanent

by satanic_panic



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 04:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20483099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satanic_panic/pseuds/satanic_panic
Summary: Peter comes to see you after a day of saving the city.





	Permanent

Stepping outside, you felt a harsh and icy wind course through to your bones, hands shaking as you reached into your pocket and grabbed your lighter in order to spark up the cigarette that sat between your lips; it was getting late, around half eleven, and although you should have been getting ready for bed, you couldn't find it in yourself, a restlessness that haunted your flesh taking over. That's when you heard it. The very thing you had been longing to hear all night - the sound of Peter, swinging on his webs before crashing down in your garden with a soft groan; he stood up, brushing himself off as he removed his mask and walked up to you, perching on the patio step beside where you stood. 

"Still need to work on the landing…" he muttered, rolling his shoulder a bit. 

You let out a soft chuckle, sitting down beside him as you took a drag. "You'll get there eventually… I mean, you still did a hell of a lot better than when you tried to land in my gran's garden and nearly broke your rib." 

Peter nodded as he laughed along and allowed the memory to run through his head; it all seemed so long ago, it seemed hundreds of years ago he was seventeen and crashing into your grandmother's garden in the middle of the day because he had nothing else to do. "She never trusted me around her hydrangeas after that." 

You shook your head, smiling brightly at him. "She still brings it up - says it's your fault when there's dead ends on 'em." 

Peter grinned back at you. "Why doesn't that surprise me? She and… her and May used to be so close, I…" 

You laid your hand on his shoulder, smiling turning sympathetic as you sighed a little. "Hey, it's okay… grief is… grief is a weird thing." 

"I know," his voice was hardly above a whisper, now, drenched in melancholy. "Just… it hurts more on some days than others, and what with… what with what happened with MJ… fuck, I shouldn't be talking about this - how's your day been, (y/n)?" 

You accepted the change of subject, not wanting Peter to feel uncomfortable or as if he had to talk about anything that he thought was upsetting. "It's been fine, usual lazy Sunday. How was saving the city?" 

"You know how it is," Peter shrugged. "Wake up at dawn, drink coffee and read the paper in my usual place, kick some ass, come home, cry in the shower and get changed, then come here." 

"You could cry in my shower if you wanted," you mused. "I mean, no, wait, uh, I mean… shit. Fuck. That… that came out wrong, I-" 

"It's fine," he assured, kissing your temple but wincing when he caught a whiff of your cigarette. "Are we talking permanent, or temporary?" 

You were thankful that it was dark enough outside that he couldn't see the way you were biting your lip and looking up at the sky. "Permanent, if you're up for it. Rent-free, of course." 

Peter thought on it for a moment; he had known you his entire life, you had been there for him since day one, kept his identity a secret, helped him and supported him with whatever you could. You were always there, and only now he was realising it. Only now he was putting a bit more thought into the moths in his stomach, attracted to the flames in your eyes, the flutter of his heart that tugged and pushed him toward you… he was in love, and he had been so stupid that he had only just realised. Reaching out for your hand, Peter held it tightly and smiled a little, relaxing at the feeling of your skin on his own. "What's the price, if I don't have to pay rent?" He added a chuckle with, "a kiss?" 

"I'd accept that," you whispered, putting your cigarette out before throwing it into the ashtray and allowing him to pull you close, your lips meeting his; he was soft and gentle, lips moving with yours sweetly before he ran his tongue along your bottom lip, begging for permission, and when you gave it, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. Letting out a soft moan, your hands tangled into his hair as he pulled you onto his lap, only to break away with a huff and a puff of satisfaction, relief, and a few other things that made up the cocktail that had been shaken and mixed in his veins. 

"(Y/N), would you be my… my… you know, I mean…" 

You pressed a finger to his lips as you smiled. "Yes." 


End file.
